


Meet Me At The Window

by sydster999



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha eyes, Alternative Season 3B, Angst and Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF Stiles, Because i love you Erica, Crossdressing Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Everyone Is Alive, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Masturbation Interruptus, Not Beta Read, Starbucks, Stiles Feels, The jeep is dead though, Voyeurism, and cannot use tags correctly, its amazing, unbetad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:38:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydster999/pseuds/sydster999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Stiles is cockblocked by the guy whose cock he had wanted</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One  
Thank God I Left It Unlocked

'I've had a long day. I mean, killing an alpha werewolf? That part was, like. Amazing. But the whole let's-all-try-to-maul-Stiles thing? Less awesome.

And, to add to it, Derek was there with his fucking shirt off and his red alpha eyes and I just... Well, let's just say that finals+ alpha werewolf pack probs+ trying not to become Peter's jailbait= not a lot of alone time for Stiles. So, yeah. Awkward boner in the middle of a pack of werewolves who can all smell it and probably tell why, too. Bit not good.

Oh my god, I seriously need to chill out with all of this Netflixing BBC shows. 

Anyway, I'm just glad to be home now.'

As I walk up the steps toward the bedroom, I realize that I really should have taken my Adderall. My thought process is all over the place. I just want to jack off to Derek's abs and pecs and biceps a few times and go to sleep. 

I open my door and walk over to the closet. I toss the blood-stained bag toward the back and shrug off my hoodie. I lick my lips and throw my tshirt off too. I take off my shoes and socks and stand in front of the mirror. I'm still pretty scrawny, but playing lacrosse for two years (alright, sitting on the bench and working my ass off at practice for two years) has given me a little bit of muscle. I even have a little bit of one of those v-shaped things on my hips that girls (and me, but only about a certain growly, pushy sourwolf) go crazy over. 

I shake my head a bit. I won't come yet. I collect my thoughts and, after a moment, walk over to my bed and sit down. I face the window and close my eyes. I unbutton my jeans and palm myself through the fabric. "Fuck.." 

It's terrible, I know, but I wish Derek would see me. I wish he would be patrolling the houses one night and hear me cry out. He'd come to my window and jump inside and see me, but I'd pretend I hadn't heard him. I'd keep going with my eyes closed and he would stay or leave, but I'd continue until I came and I'd scream his name, just like every other night. And he'd leave before I opened my eyes, if he hadn't yet, because he's complete shit at expressing his feelings unless he's pushing me out of the way of the fucking kanima or alpha werewolves and so I'd do it again the next night to see if he would come back and help me with it this time.

I'm achingly hard now, and I lift my  
hips to pull my jeans down to my ankles. I do it again for the boxers and then OH MY GOD cold air-hot dick- holy shit..

I lift my hands up to my throat and scrape down with my short, dull nails. I cry out, and I don't try to muffle it. If only he would... 

There's a low thump on the roof outside the window, and I fight the urge to open my eyes. I bring my hands down now, teasing myself. Time to put on a show, now that I have an audience. I let a thumb 'accidentally' graze my nipple and I whimper, "Fuck..." I arch my back and bare my neck.  A choked cough comes from the window.

I've waited long enough now, and I reach over to grab the lube from the bedside table. I bite my lip in a way that I hope resembled alluring and pop the cap open. I pour a bit of the cold liquid into my hand and snap the cap closed again. I throw the lube to the end of the bed and try not to look at the window as I put my hands together to warm the liquid between them.  

I bring my hand to the base of my dick and the other to the tip. I move a soft finger against the slit and grip the base. I rock into the sensation, and I swallow hard. I'm going to come,  early, too early, but I can't help it.  
I come with a loud, "Derek!" that sounds hoarse and dirty in the silence of the night.

I hear the sound of my window opening and roll over, acting surprised. Thank god I left the window unlocked, because red eyes look back at me in the darkness. Derek jumps into my room, landing softly on the floor. I glance down to see that FUCK YES I SEXUALLY AFFECTED THE HOTTEST GUY ON EARTH I CAN DIE HAPPY. 

When I bring my eyes back up, though, Derek is... tentative. "Stiles, um, I... Heard. Something." He's awkward and adorable and why the fuck is he not kissing me.

I allow myself a blush and look at him through my eyelashes. "Oh. Um. You, uh... You heard that?" My turn to be awkward, I guess.

"Yeah. I, uh... I did. Um. Is, um... Is my hearing, uh.. Messed up?" I bite my lip at the question. I turn my head just so, and whisper, "No," sheepishly.

Within moments these 147 pounds of small teenager are pressed into the bed. Derek is on top of me and my brain is short-circuting. My senses are on overload and I want to put my hands everywhere and FUCK, Derek, why are you not kissing me?!? 

I arch my back up into him and rub us together and omigod I'm getting hard again, thank you teenage recovery time.

I totally DO NOT whimper at the contact but then holy shit those are his lips and they're just barely touching mine and it isn't enough. "Is this okay?" he asks and I want to reply, 'fuck yes you idiot I've wanted this for two fucking years!' Instead, I decide to be a bit more elegant with my wording and reply, "You're an idiot," and press his lips to mine.

I'll upload more soon, but I'm on vacation in motherfucking Texas and it's hot and I'm also taking a summer class online but I promise to try! I was listening to I Get Off by Halestorm when I came up with the idea and ran with it because I've been in the car and hotels and sucky history museums for the past week and I haven't had anything better to do. Comment and tell me what you think and stuff and, like, I'm sorry if it sucked. And yeah, I use way too many commas and periods and then like no punctuation at all and run-on sentences because that is undeniably the way Stiles' brain works. Because it's the way mine works too. And we are like totally brain-twins. Oh, and I apologize for any misspellings, I wrote this on my iPod in a moving van at 2am so. Yeah. Oh, and I don't own anything, and I'm not getting money for writing this and putting it on the interwebs.


	2. And He Was Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles is cockblocked by the guy whose cock he had wanted

As soon as our lips pressed together, his were gone. He was out the window within moments; I'm so fucking stupid. He probably doesn't even LIKE guys. The only reason he even came in was because he lost his alpha cool; it /is/ quite close to the full moon, and I knew that. How did I forget that?!? Now I'm hard again, and Derek is gone, and he knows I like him, and he doesn't like me. 

I groan and turn to my pillow, glad my dad has the night shift. I just got cockblocked by the guy whose cock I'm fucking obsessed with. 

Ok guys, sorry this one is short, but I enjoy Stiles' pain like I enjoy crack!fic- short and comedic and unexpected and over fast. Would it make it up to you guys if I said Stiles is going shopping with Lydia next time??? I'm already writing ;) Love you!! ; *


	3. Who Even Gets Up That Early?!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Stiles are bros and Stiles does /not/ need to hear about her sex life

Stiles jacked off again after Derek had left. He pulled himself hard and fast, screaming, "DEREK!" at the top of his lungs as he came within minutes. He remembered Derek's lips on his, dancing across them softly, barely a whisper of pressure between them. Stiles came imagining those lips in other places, and if you asked him if it was the best orgasm of his life, he would lie.

Stiles fell asleep cold. Maybe it was only because Derek wasn't on top of him, though. He wished that Derek had stayed, if only to berate him for his actions and perhaps press him against a wall in the process. 

The next morning, Stiles awoke to a text from Lydia. Who was even up at (Stiles checked the time) 8 am anyway? 

To Stiles  
We're going shopping and getting skinny lattes at Starbucks in the next town over. Meet me outside in thirty. 

To StrawberryBeautyWhoLedMeToBelieveIWasHeteroSinceThirdGrade  
What stores?

Stiles knew not to argue, so he got out of bed and cleaned up with a wet cloth before checking his phone again. He almost dropped it. 

To Stiles  
An amazing boutique in Chelsea. Jackson likes bustiers, and I'm buying your birthday presents early. Need you to help pick the colors.

Stiles has been out to Lydia since Christmas junior year, when she helped him get into Jungle. He was now her gay bff. (She probably preferred Danny, but he was Jackson's.) Lydia had since had no mercy whatsoever and enjoyed making him try on women's clothing in towns far away from Beacon Hills, where no one would recognize him and tell his dad. It wasn't that he didn't love the idea of silk or lace, but he just wanted to make one thing clear.

To StrawberryBeautyWhoLedMeToBelieveIWasHeteroSinceThirdGrade  
Getting dressed now. But, Lyds? No more telling me about you and Jackson.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles dressed quickly in a red tee-shirt and his normal, skinny-ish jeans, pulling his red hoodie on top. He pulled on his black converse, grabbed a small black leather bag out of his closet, and made his way outside to meet Lydia. He laughed and jumped in the passenger seat, with a happy, "Hey Lyds." 

The girl gave him a twitch of her lips. "Morning Stiles." The two sat in calm, companionable silence until they hit the city limits. "Oh my god, can I marry that purse?" Stiles' voice dripped sarcasm, "Nope, she's taken. You can totally be my maid of honor though." He reached into the bag in question and pulled out a matte red lipstick and brown mascara. "You have a mirror?"

Lydia pointed to the glove box. "Of course I do; when don't I?" "Thanks babe," Stiles winked to the girl on the left. Stiles opened the compartment and took out the mirror to apply his makeup.  

"Ooh, I like that lipstick. Did I get that for you?" Lydia asked with a smirk. "Nope. Remember when I drove to Berkeley to check out the campus?" without waiting for an answer, Stiles continued, "Well, I found this at the beauty counter of a Macy's I passed on the way home. It matched my hoodie, I couldn't resist. Plus, I knew you'd be jealous. They discontinued the color." Stiles' honey -colored eyes twinkled as he laughed.

Lydia reached over and flicked him in the shoulder. "Put some music on!" Stiles just smiled and plugged in his iPod to the car's system. They sang along to about fifteen songs until Lydia cut the music off and pulled into the Starbucks parking lot. "I need a latte," Stiles sighed, hopping out of the car and walking around to open Lydia's door before putting his hood up. To her raised eyebrow, he said, "I'm wearing makeup. Don't want anyone to comment on my hair." 

Stile's dark locks hadn't grown much since the beginning of his junior year, so the shortness of his hair and the flatness of his chest showed his gender. He didn't want anyone to make fun of him or be offended because he was wearing makeup.  
Lydia just reached up and tugged his hood off again. "You look gorgeous. Anyone who has a problem with it can take it up with me." Stiles blushed  and looked down. "Thanks, Lyds." 

She tugged at his sleeve, "Come on, we aren't here to comfort you, we're here to get coffee and to find you a sexy-ass bustier so you can look hot while you try to get Derek to come back." At this, Stiles' eyes widened, and he blinked in horror. "How..." he trailed off, but Lydia knew what he had been asking. "You were smiling this morning, and when I texted you you didn't complain about not being attractive. I didn't even have to yell at you for being an idiot today." 

Lydia's compliment didn't faze him (She liked him, but she knew he was gay before he did), but Stiles' mind was still racing. Not because of Lydia, but because a jet black Camaro had just pulled into the parking lot. Stiles grabbed Lydia's hand and tried to push her back to the car, but they were already on the sidewalk and she was not leaving without her coffee. "Stiles, it probably isn't even him. Chill out. Do you want a latte or what? I'm not ordering it for you." With this, Lydia turned on her heel and swept through the door, holding her head high. Stiles sighed and followed, closing the door after him.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles follows Lydia to the counter, fighting the urge to put his hood up because 'Oh my god, what if it's Derek, what if he sees, shit!' Lydia thumps him on the arm, saying "Chill out, it's fine, Stiles, you look good, you're okay." Stiles just sighs and orders a white chocolate mocha with a pump of espresso before grabbing his wallet out of his purse, blushing when the barista compliments his lipstick. Lydia orders too, some weird cinnamon thing, and they make their way to a booth in the corner.

They sit in silence for a moment, across from each other, but the peace is broken when a familiar voice catches their ears. "One hot chocolate," Stiles hears Derek say, "and two pumps of mint. Tall." Stiles stops breathing temporarily and Lydia stops him from pulling his hood up. "He's not gonna care, if he sees you at all." Sure enough, though, Derek walks over, saying hello to Lydia, and turning to Stiles with a smile to ask his name. He stops though, shakes his head (seemingly to clear his thoughts) and says "Hey, Stiles. Um, can I sit with you guys?"


End file.
